Ephemeral
by Satin Champagne
Summary: This is really just a story I wrote years ago as a freshman in highschool that's inspired and, I realize, very similar to AtwaterRhodes' Hawksong. R
1. Chapter 1

Rain is skipping on my shoulders and rolling down my night black hair. A sharp wind rushes past me and a bone chilling shiver snakes down my spine. Looking up, there are thunderous gray clouds hovering, dancing to the downhearted song of the sky; each drop calling out its own story. The dirt is bathed with crimson blood. The water falling from above merges with the wine-red essence. It's slowly washing away, but it shouldn't—it should stay as reminder of what happened. What _did_ happen? Why can't I remember? I search harder in all the crevices of my mind, yet nothing surfaces. Pushing further, I kneel on the cold, wet earth with my hands to my ears. The shrieking of the silence swallowing me… the cry of the tears… is falling like the rain… I release my head—I realize my hands are covered in the same blood dripping from the trees.

Why?

I'll look to the horizon to see a young man who appears to be little older than I, hunched over in the distance. With a closer look, he seems vaguely familiar, but from where do I recognize him? I stumble over to him and try to speak, but the words get tangled in my throat. He looks up and catches my gaze. My first instinct is to turn away and look down, but his eyes, they are emerald green, glinting like gems and I can't break away. Instead, I stand up straighter and shift closer. My hand rises slowly and involuntarily and I run my fingers through his soft, golden hair. His cheeks are drenched. It's not just from the rain. Like an emerald emits a flaming radiance, I could see the same fire burning in his stark green eyes. My thumb brushes below his eye tenderly to wipe away the tears that stain his beautiful face.

Suddenly, he draws back and pushes me behind him. I hear the hushed lunge of a swift, masked man dressed completely in black as he lunges toward the man who wields a sword in defense. I turn my head and my stomach flips as I hear a sickening crack, then, a heart piercing scream of pain as I feel something damp spray on the flesh of my arm.

Quickly, I snap my head around and see the young man lying in the dirt drenched in a pool of mud and blood. I want to cry out but I still am not able to. Words in my throat falter but I no longer cared as I fall to his side and gently pull him up against my body for support. He is limp but heavy and I struggle a little as I embrace him. I cradle his head in my arms. There is blood trickling down his scalp in a thin, fragile stream. I delicately wipe away the crimson dripping from the crevice between his lips with my fingertips. The pain I feel in my gut forces me to clench my teeth although I know that it is nothing compared to what he is experiencing. But I don't cry. I need to maintain my composure. Instead, I whisper soothingly to him and beg him to stay awake and with me. His breathing is shallow and unsteady while his lungs gasp for air. His stunning eyes are falling in and out of focus but they finally fix on mine as he says, "Rebuild our kingdoms."

Bile rises in my throat and I look away. I don't want him to see the tears rising behind my eyes. I look to the dependable gray rain to wash away the tears I had shed. Blood is everywhere. It is on the earth. It is on my hands. The rain washes it all away but the image of blood remains, gnawing, in my mind.

Horrified at the reflection, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to force it out of my head. It hurts so much in my chest that I scream fiercely to myself. This can't be true. I will scream and scream in my mind until everything is better. I don't even notice that I dropped the now motionless corpse to the ground and that he is no longer breathing. Still, I scream.

Then, abruptly, the scene fades and I find myself screaming out loud. It was the dream that visits me every night. Many times, I had refused to go to sleep in fear of seeing those eyes again. Of course, that was never possible because I was always too tired to stay awake _all _night. However, from all the experience I've had with terrifying nightmares, I scream and scream with my eyes shut until I awake. This is the one way I have discovered to be the most effective although it isn't the most pleasant one.

Sweat rests on my forehead in precious little beads that I wipe away with the palm of my hand. I look around the room for some figure of comfort to calm my tension. There are all assortments of random items scattered all around my room, a massive mirror being one of them. Don't get me wrong; it's not that I'm vain. It's just a form of reassurance that I know myself and always will. After scanning the numerous objects resting on my shelves, my eyes fall on a painting of a falcon soaring through thunderous storm clouds. The painting itself is about two feet high and three feet wide. There is no sign of land from this view, as the entire canvas is covered in tousling gale clouds, raging shades of gray tearing through the darkened sky. As there seems to be no sign of light, there is a falcon amongst the shadow; a swift, golden, falcon, ricocheting through the storming winds like a small fragile sailboat lost at sea, just barely hanging on to life at the surface of the massive, salty waves. Its great wings are spread out with feathers flying in every direction. The emerald eyes I see in my dreams are present here, as well. Those heart piercing green eyes of the falcon glint and are the only signs of hope. It was a gift from the prince of a neighboring kingdom for my sixteenth birthday. When I look at it, it brings the distinct sensation of ascending through the clouds, with the wind. Closing my eyes, I feel the breeze beneath my arms and suddenly have the irrational urge to go flying. When I go flying, I feel like a small sail boat, lost at a vast, infinite blue sea. I sit there for several minutes, imagining.

There is a tap on the door.

I promptly break myself out of the tranquil trance of flight and answer to the knock.

"Who is it?"

"Rae, it's me, Gi."

"You may enter."

As Gi entered the room, I hastily fixed myself up—or at least to a presentable state. My silky yet knotted black hair I patted down to appear less tangled and quickly tied it behind my neck. It's actually quite amusing how I was named after my hair—my raven black hair. I started spelling my name as "Raevyn" instead of "Raven" because personally, I think it makes it more refined and slightly less like the name of a bird. I don't have a last name. I imagine one could say it is "Fly" or "Flight" or something like that. In our region, a family name is more like a family "ability" that is passed down the generations. It's not something you can choose. As you probably figured out by now, my family has the power of flight. Nearly every one of the abilities possessed by individuals is unique to a certain blood line.

"Negotiations with the Wruai family take place in a week." Gi's calm tone did not veil his unease as well as he had hoped. Maybe that was because we had been best friends ever since he had arrived three years ago. At that time, he claimed to have no memory of his past or his line of ability. Requesting to be a member of the Royal Sentry at the age of sixteen, he was instantly accepted for his remarkable combat skills. Now, he's my main body guard.

"Yes, I am aware of that," I say coldly. I've been angry at him for the entire day. I think I have bad memory because I forgot why already.

"Rae—I…" He glances at me warily as he stumbles over thoughts, "I'm—I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for taking your mother's side on the decision to double your guards for the duration of that day."

Oh, so _that_ was it.

"I'm just concerned about what could and might happen at the meeting. It's for—"

"—my own good." I've already heard the same thing from countless people enough for a lifetime. It's like listening to a broke record player.

"Please just try to understand.

"Yes, but—Stop looking at me like that! You know we are just worried about you."

"Stop treating me like a child, Evengi," I say with a severe glare of annoyance. At that, Gi winced a little. Evengi is his full name and he knows that I'm serious whenever I address him by that name, "I'm not young anymore. You know as well as I do that we are of the same age.

"Please return to your post, now. I need to get my rest."

"Okay, I'll leave."

Gi stands up and is halfway out the door.

"Gi…"

He turns around, "Yeah?"

"I forgive you."

"Thank you, your highness," he says with a mocking tone as he leans over and gives me a friendly hug. I feel the warmth of his moist breath on the back of my neck and close my eyes for a second.

I smile lightly, he quietly shuts the door and I slouch a little, listening for his footsteps to fade into absolute silence before I collapse on my fluffy pillow and drift back into sleep. I dream of flying through the night sky and weaving through the colossal, thriving trees of the forests south of Quiore. I sleep peacefully the rest of the night. There are no more nightmares.


	2. Chapter 2

Early morning breaks out through my window. The light seeps in discreetly; my long, velvet curtains contain most of it. Sluggishly, I drag myself over to the largest window in my entire room. It is in the shape of an arch and is at least twice my height and half as wide as it is tall. Fingering the vast folds of cloth between my fingers, I pull at the expensive fabric, absorbing the softness of the satin into the palm of my hand. In an instant, I draw back the curtains and the sun shows its full force as it rages into my quarters. Shrinking back at the light, I hold up an arm to the superior vigor to shield my vision. The glare is overwhelming and I squint to see over the horizon. Surprised, I spot a caravan at the edge of our gates with many villagers and guards scattered about, exciting great clouds of ivory dust. Grand blue and silver flags stream in the harsh breeze.

Eager to unearth the cause of all this commotion, I rush to my closet to pick out my garments. Flipping past multiple shirts and skirts and pants, there are none that satisfy me. Fed up with my large collections of clothing making decisions difficult, I urgently slip a simple, white shirt over my shoulders and a short pleated skirt over my thighs. I quickly promenade down our grand staircase. Nearing the bottom, I slow to a casual and reserved stroll as my position as Nephera is much respected and I should treat with such circumspect. Step after step, I gracefully descend and greet my mother.

"Good morn, Mother," I am cautious of the spectators occupying the room are choose my words with care, "May I inquire to who our revered visitors may be?"

"As I have told you early on this autumn, I have arranged a marriage for you between the heir of Wruai and yourself. Eliade is here to court you and your bonding has already been decided. As tradition calls for in these lands, your marriage is solely for political purposes and desire comes second to duty," she reminds me with care of my responsibilities that come with the title of Nephera.

"Yes I understand," though disappointed with this arrangement, I know I am obligated to uphold tradition and think for the welfare of our kingdom; I must think for what is best for Quiore, "I think it would be nice if I could just meet my fiancé before the wedding takes place--"

As I speak, a young man steps forward from the crowd. Suddenly, he comes forth and takes my hand in his and brushes his lips across it. Taken aback from this abrupt action, I draw back faintly but then regain my composure. I look up and study his features. His hair is straight and in a dark brown tone. His facial structure is refined and sleek. Then, looking into his eyes, I see something else. They are piercing crimson, like a scarlet inferno burning viciously in the hearth of his being. He is so beautiful and is, without doubt, one of the most stunning men I have ever seen in my lifetime. So much so that my breath is drawn from my lungs and I quickly avert my gaze, my cheeks flushing rapidly with embarrassment for staring. I sneak another glance at his face, but avoid his eyes.

"I am your husband to be," Eliade's mouth curves into a smile, "Pleased to meet you too, Nephera."

With grace, he sweeps away and I am left, gawking at the place where he once stood. Uncomfortable with such familiarity in his touch, I am relieved that he has left. My mother looks at me with disproval for my ill-mannered behavior. The silent warning was discreet yet apparent.

"Please, Raevyn, you must be more respectful than that," my mother comments with vigilance, "You know that you must honor this relationship for the sake of the liaison between our kingdoms."

I need to bathe so I walk back toward the grand staircase. I make my way through the crowds of nobles and servants and guards. I can't believe it! I'm actually getting married. I'm not disappointed with my future husband, though the thought of _him_ being it is a little unnerving. I think he is really gorgeous. He moves with grace, like a wild stallion, the fire of his free will burning in his eyes and elegance in his strides. Somehow, though, his presence is somewhat startling. The things that make him so beautiful also make him one to fear. Such splendor and poise seems only to belong to the devil himself and that thought itself scares the hell out of me.

Lost in my contemplation, I run right into somebody. Forced out of my trance, I swerve around quickly to apologize, "Oh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking and—"

Standing before me is Gi with a magnificent smile spread across his face, completely different from the frightening one of Eliade, "Rae, it's no problem. I've actually been looking for you."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to congratulate you on your engagement with the heir of Wruai. It's a good match. So how do you like him? What is he like?"

"Um, he's, uh, nice," What am I supposed to say? There really are no words to describe this puzzling yet mesmerizing man, "Strange, I must admit, but not really in a bad sense. Really graceful, I must admit and, in a way, terrifying."

I didn't mean to make the last part sound so harsh. Gi just grins, "So sort of weird, like you?"

I playfully punch him, "Oh shut up. I need to go bathe now, so I'll see you later."

"I better leave you to your feminine needs now. I have to speak to the captain of my guard group. I'll talk to you later," Gi says, mocking me as usual.

Gi leaves in the opposite direction and I continue on my way. When I get to the bathing room, a maid turns on the water for me and I stare into the tub as it slowly fills with water. The pitter patter of the water droplets splashing sounds like thunder. Like rain and thunder from my dreams. With my busy schedule, I haven't given them another thought for quite a while. I could just see those glinting emerald eyes seeing through me. To tell the truth, they reminded me a lot of Eliade's, only less vicious and softer. I could get lost in those eyes for an eternity.

The rush of the waterfall of water slows to a stop and I remove my garments. Cautious of the heat, I carefully dip a foot in and stretch it until it is touching the floor of the tub, and then extend my other leg in as well. I lower myself in steadily. My back slides down the glassy ceramic walls and slowly submerge under the water. First the clear liquid rises to my collarbone, then to my chin, and to my nose. I sink lower and lower. The farther I sink, the more I relax and escape my problems, if only for these moments. Taking a deep breath, I squeeze my eyes shut and dunk my entire head under, hoping to wash away all my fears and troubles. I stay in this position for minutes and don't bother to clean myself. This bath's purpose was more to cleanse my mind rather than my body, for me to organize my thoughts.

Unexpectedly, there was a rap on the door that interrupts the peace of my subconscious mind.

"What is it?"

"The Yunephera requests that you spend some time getting to know the heir to Wruai, your husband."

"Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll be out soon."

I hurriedly slip on my clothing I had worn earlier this morning. Bending forward, I flip my hair and tie it up with a ribbon because it is still drenched and I don't want it dampening objects that are meant to be left dry.

I step outside the room to find a dainty maid standing before me. Wearing a blue blouse and skirt, it signals that she of a low social status. I signal to her to lead the way. As I obediently follow her, a slight tingle of panic climbs its way up my spine. The brightly lit halls and corridors of Quiore's palace dampen my fears a little. My hands are clammy and sweating in anticipation as we walk and I hastily smear them across the hem of my gown. We near an open door, and, as the servant leads me inside and bids me farewell, I am left all alone in the room with this stranger. I force myself to meet his burning eyes dutifully. For a few moments, we simply sit there in silence. I feel uncomfortable and feel responsible to start conversation because this is, after all, my home and he is the one who should feel misplaced. I squirm yet cannot think of what to say but no matter for he is the one to break the ice.

"You are beautiful," His eyes flash with sincerity and grow a more intense garnet. He observes my expression closely and I feel more self conscious.

Surprised at his words, I flush deep rouge once again. I take a deep breath before I speak. "Thank you."

Abruptly, he reaches forth with his arm and holds his palm against my cheek and brushes his thumb under my eye. He sparks another devious smile and says, "I am lucky to have you as my wife."

I impulsively recoil in response to the familiarity he expresses for we have only known each other for minutes. He quickly draws away and the smile flickers for a moment before it fades into a frown. "I'm not going to hurt you. In Wruai, the expression of such acquaintance is common and when you travel to my kingdom, you must know to get used to the feel of my flesh, or anyone else's, against yours. I am aware of cultural difference; I am not ignorant of such facts that divide my kingdom from yours," The corners of his lips stretch into a barely noticeable, bitter line. His fiery eyes fiercely glare straight into mine. "Understand the situation, Raevyn. If you have not noticed, our kingdoms are on the verge of war. Not to mention the Khari are beginning to get involved as well. This is the last line, Raevyn. This must work in order to unite our two colonies in peace.

"Or maybe," looking out the window, he continues, "you are simply unaware of the politics of Quiore, Wruai, and Khari. You are blinded from reality by wealth and fortune. I don't know much about the governing the royal family conducts in your empire but in Wruai, nobility mingle among its markets and see life at its truest."

He looks right at me. "We must strive to make this arrangement work. It's not for us, Raevyn; it's for our people."

He masks his face under the suave smile, once again as he regains his reserve. "Thank you for your time. I hope you consider my words with care."

With that, Eliade departs from the room and I am left alone to consider in solitude. I must admit, he completely monopolized the conversation. Not a word I had really gotten in of my opinion but I start contemplating about his wisely spoken words. They had truth to them, oddly enough. If the words he had said were true about the world around me, I had indeed been shielded from these facts.

Wind escapes through the south window and gently rustles the satin red curtains, calling me to it. Outside, a gust sweeps through the forests, stirring the branches and leaves of the trees. Closing my eyes, I listen, hoping to understand the meanings of what Eliade had said. Concentrating on the world around me, I hear the current of air, whispering wispy secrets past my ears. I feel it as well. Slowly, gradually, the air surrounds me; the fresh scent of pines enveloping me and I give in to my desire. Leaning, little by little. Rising, little by little. I surrender to the force of the wind and am wrapped in a shell of sky. My hair picks up in the chilling gust and is tousled about my head. The draft scoops under my feet and lifts me up progressively and slowly. I then ascend to the clouds in a burst of speed with ease and I depart my dilemma, leaving it behind with the ground. The sun is beating at an even greater strength than earlier. It is a ripe golden orange hanging amongst leaves of sky from an unseen branch. The skies are shades of blue and yellow and red and orange. Clouds dance overhead as they churn with vibrant vivacity as they swim across the vast ocean of vivid color.

My thoughts are drawn back to Eliade. The man's eyes captivated me and I knew that, although they are of such an unusual tint, they are sincerely that vigorous. There had been an air about him that made me shy away from him yet something compelling about him that drew me toward him. He is unlike anyone I have ever met in my lifetime, I'll give him that. His movements are graceful like a tiger's and his smile seemed so deceptive, like a fox. Debonair and cavalier Eliade was; his movements so nonchalantly polished.

I stay up in the air, simply gliding over the wooded land of Quiore when I hear my mother calling for me from outside as she spots me. Nervous of what reprimanding I am to receive for leaving without a notice at such dangerous times. She leaps into the air and I stop as she catches up to me. Instead of scolding me, she calmly remarks, "Come now, it is nearly time for breakfast."

With that, she heads off back down to the palace and I follow close behind. Her silvery windswept hair, sinuous in a river of silk, streams behind her. Reluctant to leave the freedom of my skyward haven, I trail behind her by several yards. I near a balcony and brace myself for a landing. The air resistance between the marble and my body shrinks and the wind under me churns and picks up dust from a lack of space to push me up. Slowly, my feet make contact with the cold stone floor. Wind unravels from all around me and I shut my eyes for a brief moment, savoring the feeling of flight and lack of restriction. The breeze that once surrounded me and carried me toward the skies dissipates and I am now back-to-earth, literally. I hastily slide my feet into a pair of slippers hurry downstairs.

At breakfast, I pick indifferently at my eggs for my mind drifts elsewhere, back to Eliade. His eyes, mostly. Those piercing red eyes. Frighteningly relentless, those crimson eyes look right through me in my memory. Unforgettable and unforgiving. Somehow, I cannot picture spending an eternity with this man and I know that he must not feel at ease under these conditions either. I know we will have to work something else for the best for both of us. His face was not unpleasing to look at, though; that is not it. I feel strangely up tight under his gaze. In all truth, he is definitely the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes on. Hold on. I am obsessing over this man I have barely just met. Why do I care so much? Because he is to be my husband? Arrangements like this are always made. I try to force myself not to allow him to consume my thoughts as well as my marriage.

A voice interrupts my deep thoughts. "So the new Nepher has decided to join us in our meal!"

A few nobles offer him a seat by theirs with circumspect, but avoiding making eye contact. Slightly embarrassed by our earlier encounter, I catch his gaze and refuse to be the first to back out of the lock. He smiles again, deceptively, and saunters over next to me. I feign a smile back as he pulls out the chair adjacent to mine and says, "May I?"

Without waiting for an answer, he seats himself down and drapes an elegant arm across my back. A few of the people also sitting at the table are slightly taken aback by how "close" we are already and I was about ready to flinch as well before I remind myself to maintain my poise. I discreetly draw away from his touch and his arm retreats to his side. _Do_ I fear Eliade? I am no longer able to answer that question with a solid "no", for in the back of my mind, I honestly don't know anymore.

I finish eating my breakfast, trying to avoid conversation in fear of saying something stupid. When I am as nervous as I am now, I can't speak right and my thoughts come out as a tangle of thoughts compressed into a jumble of incomprehensible words. Eliade tries to begin a "friendly" chat, but I feebly brush off his attempts with somewhat cold replies.

"This food is most excellent," What a lousy excuse for a comment

"Hmm."

Days go by and I grow slightly more accustomed to Eliade's fiery gaze. I don't see too much of him, but that's partly due to the fact that I consciously try to avoid him. Don't get me wrong, I do strive with a painstaking effort to be more familiar around him, but it's quite difficult with when I fear his stare. Gi is off on a mission to stabilize some fighting that broke off in the east. It's true that I miss him, but my mind is currently preoccupied with too many other worries to think too much about him. Negotiations grow nearer and nearer; I'm not too hassled about that, though, because if I'm marrying the heir to their throne, there can't be _that_ much tension between the two kingdoms. However, the day creeps up the calendar and I discover that tomorrow, six days after my meeting with Eliade, the day has finally arrived.

**Thanks for reading!**

**PLEASE REVIEW, it would be greatly appreciated-- and your imput would help me write this story.**


	3. Chapter 3

Morning sun seeps through the curtains in a blazing stream of irritation. It slides down the corners of my windows and across the soft, elaborate carpets that cover the stone floors of my room and creeps up the side of my bed. Inside my room, it is as dark as anyone would expect a bat's lair to be except for the radiating exception, accented by the shadows. Slowly, I drag myself out of my bed. Drawing the blinds as I haul myself toward the window, I notice that is raining outside and the only reason for my believing that it was sunny was because of the illusion the contrast of light had played on me. The truth is I'd prefer the rain to the sun any day. Some of the delicate drops of water pattering on the windowsill slip into my room and I wipe them off with the palm of my hand. The dusty colored clouds drift above the palace and the land over a vast distance.

Ah yes, negotiations begin in an hour.

I saunter sluggishly over to the mirror. On the glass, there is a small piece of paper, quite out of place, which catches my attention as I glance over at it. Curiously, I pick it up and read what is written on it.

_Her hair is Raven, just like her name._

_Salient blue eyes, the color of Rain._

_Beautiful is this princess of lore._

_Exquisite, she is Nephera of Quiore._

_This is a warning to her family and her_

_That soon there will be a murderer._

_A deadly man from the kingdom of Wruai,_

_A Messenger who will act without delay._

_Creeping among them like a Friend,_

_Plotting to bring them to their End._

_Surely they shall put up a fight,_

_But inevitably will never again see the Light._

Shocked, I gasp. My stomach starts to feel a sickening nausea and I stagger to the wall. This is a warning of the assassinations of my family. Of me. Impossible. This cannot be true. What disturbs me even more than the threat is the fact that someone was able to sneak past my guards and slip into my room to leave the note here in the first place. If they were able to get past my protectors, I have no doubt that they'll have no trouble killing me just as easily. Then, another devastating thought crosses my mind: Eliade is from Wruai. My husband-to-be? "Creeping like a friend"—Eliade is mingling among us Quiore people like a friend—I hope desperately that this is just some disturbing prank—probably Gi's doing as revenge. But then again, I'd give anything that he's no good at poetry. Wruai; it is the kingdom that they are to have negotiations with today. Why are _they_ planning to assassinate my family if they come in peace? I've made up my mind; I need to speak with Gi before I confront my mother about this.

I slide outside my door and find Gi sleeping on the job. Loudly, I make a sarcastic remark that, somewhat alarmingly, did have some truth to it. "Damn, I don't think I can sleep safely every night knowing that my personally appointed body guard can't even protect me from, say, an assassin tried to sneak in. And his only pathetic excuse would be that he had to catch up on his beauty sleep."

Gi jumps about a foot up in the air in alarm. He turns to see me with an enormous grin spread across my face and he smiles warily.

"There is something I need to talk to you about. Are you available from your post right now?"

"Yes, what is it?"

I glance around at the servants rushing through the halls. "Come into my room to talk; I think it'd be safer to speak there."

Gi bows teasingly and puts one arm forward to lead me into my own room. There, I flop down on my bed and offer him a place to sit beside me. More solemnly, I retrieve the manuscript I had received earlier that morning and hand it to him to read. Gi quickly scans over the document and an expression of concern and confusion washes over his face. "This can't be possible."

"That's what I thought, too."

"I mean, why would my kingdom ever threaten yours like that?"

I eye him suspiciously. "What do you mean 'your kingdom' and 'my kingdom'? Your kingdom is the Quiore, as is mine."

He hastily brushes off the notion. "It just slipped out of my mouth before I thought about it. You know what I meant."

No, I don't.

Seeing that I still was apprehensive, he quickly changes the subject. "Anyway, just as a precaution I will double the number of guards protecting you and your family. We can't take any risks today at the negotiations. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be leaving now to make preparations."

"No."

"Pardon me?"

"I said, 'no'."

"What do you mean?"

"You said, 'if you'll excuse me' and I said, 'no'."

"Rae, be reasonable. I really must leave now. Remember, you need to get dressed and cleaned up. Good day, now." Gi gets up and departs. Yeah, right—"good day" was definitely an over-statement. Today is going to be a _dreadful_ day. I think no more of the threatening letter and look to my dresser for what to wear. What to wear, what to wear. I skim through my dresses and gowns. Hmm. Nothing.

Someone knocks on the door.

"Come in."

It is a maid who walks in with a parcel in her hands. She is dressed unadorned with a simple hair style. She wears a black dress that comes down to her ankles and a white apron covering the majority of the garments beneath its pallid fabric.

"The Yunephera requests that you wear this during your conference with the Wruai."

Perfect timing. My mother would never trust my judgment on what to wear under such demanding circumstances. Presently I am only Nephera and therefore must obey my mother, but I know my mother will pass the title of Yunephera on to me in a miniscule time. The maid hands me the package and I open it, expecting the worse. The Yunephera doesn't have a very good sense for fashion.

I open it and am shocked to see the stunning gown inside. The cotton voile dress is a spectacular, profound azure. The surging cerulean fabric streams down from the waist to the floor like a cascading waterfall of cloth. It is covered in a veil that is tied together with lavender ribbons and spreads apart at the hips. The back of the dress is strung up with the same lilac ribbon like a corset. Simple, yet elegant.

Strange. This doesn't seem like anything to my mother's taste.

Seeing my puzzlement, the maid quickly added, "The Yunephera instructed me to tell you that this was left at the gates with no letter notifying her of what this is for or from whom it was from. It was simply addressed to you. Of course, she ordered it opened to disclose the contents as a precaution."

I could tell that the maid was lying about my mother's opening as a safety measure. My mother has developed a habit of intruding in my personal life.

"The Yunephera would also like to remind you that negotiations commence in a half an hour and she requests that you meet her down in the West Parlor ten minutes prior to when it begins."

With that, the maid departs and I am alone, once again. With efficiency, I change out of my nightgown and into the new dress. I slip it over my waist with ease.

"Damn, you look really beautiful," Gi comments as he sizes me up in my new gown as I step out of my room. He sweeps over toward me in a graceful step and jokingly drapes an arm around my waist. A little shocked, I recoil slightly at the touch of his skin against mine. He knows as well as I that there are to be no affairs between royalty and their lowers. The only acceptable bondings to be made in our line are amid others associated in the same circle of connections and social rankings.

Playing along, I reach over with my palm and tilt his head in my direction and smile slyly. He looks at me with the dumbest expression of bewilderment that I explode into spastic bursts of giggles. I push him to the stone floor and tackle and start tickling him. He laughs uncontrollably as he struggles to fend me off. He overpowers me with his immense strength and pins me to the ground and tickles me in revenge. Gi eventually lets me go and lies down beside me after he makes sure I acknowledge his victory. Don't get me wrong. I am neither in love with him nor am childish. We are the best of buddies and just like to fool around. I turn my face and look at his profile. To tell you the truth, he is rather good looking. He has high cheekbones, and a chiseled chin. The slightly curly brown hair on his head accentuates his dark eyes. I poke his tan cheek with my index finger and he faces in my direction.

"I think we should be friends forever."

"How do you mean, milady?"

"Don't call me that. Promise that we will, for ever and a day, be friends."

I offer him my pinky.

He hesitates slightly before linking his pinky in mine.

"Okay, I promise."


	4. Chapter 4

Mother refuses to allow me to fly to the Khari Halls, a neutral land at which the negotiations are being held today. She says it will ruin the gown I am wearing. Sitting in a carriage can be very tiring after riding in it for an extended period of time. Extended being three and a half hours, that is. The stagecoach slowly pulls in through the colossal steel gates of the political meeting place and the wheels make a sharp squeak. The towering metallic bars stand fiercely against the ground like dead, frozen trees. I glide the tips of my fingers over the harsh metal patterns engraved along the edge of the gates. Faces are artfully shaped into the designs and stare icily ahead, into oblivion and I shudder as I look into their eyes. Turning away, I face forward, ready for whatever I might encounter inside the structure of wood and stones ahead.

Solemnly, we walk in through the enormous gray doors and amble along the glassy marble floors of the halls. Our footsteps echo eerily off the stone walls, announcing our presence. I notice that we are slowly descending as we pace. Through twisting tunnels, down, down, down, we walk past chambers and doors, all with locks. Cold rock surrounding us from every direction, I feel as if I am imprisoned.

Leaning over to my mother's ear as to not be overheard, I whisper, "Mother, there is something I must inform you of."

"What is it?"

"This morning," I hesitate, reluctant to betray Eliade even though I don't even know him that well. Something just tells me that he couldn't, just _couldn't_, be a murderer, "I received a threat in the form of a letter on top of my dresser. It said that—that there was to be an assassinator creeping among us—that he would murder Quiore nobility."

With a petrified look on her face, the Yunephera steps back. "Are you aware of how serious a situation this is?"

"Mother, I _know_," I say with exasperation. I am hesitant to say the next words. "Mother, there's something else—It said that the murderer—"

I couldn't continue. I couldn't basically accuse Eliade of something he couldn't have done or known about.

"Raevyn, this is important. It could save all of us."

"Mother, I can't—"

"Raevyn," she looks right into my eyes with the same vigor as Eliade's eyes express and I give in.

"He is one from Wruai."

She stumbles slightly and regains her balance with the poise that any Yunephera worthy of the title should.

"Mother—"

"That is enough. I will handle this at the negotiations."

We walk the rest of the way in silence except for the clamor of our feet against the clammy floors of the palace halls.

"Rae, look over there," Gi nudges my shoulder and signals ahead.

Because I was preoccupied with a series of worries and stress, I had been too inattentive to notice the grand setting a few steps in front of me. Draping along and covering the bland, gray walls are lavender curtains and draperies and paintings. Woven carefully into the design of the hangings are stories. Tales are depicted with skilled strokes of pigment. Great battles and monumental moments of Khari history are vividly displayed with vibrantly tinted fibers. Among these, one catches my attention above all the vivacious curtains. Green. Vigorous emerald eyes stare right into mine, captivating me. A headstrong looking woman poised elegantly with great reserve is portrayed gracefully on a vast canvas. The elaborate gold frame compliments her ornately styled blonde locks. Her beautiful features fit together perfectly and her fair skin flushed slightly on her cheeks. A jade dress flowing from her shoulders brings out the fierce green in her eyes.

"Welcome to Khari lands," a welcoming voice exclaims over the chattering of the people, "The negotiations taking place this day are to be completely peaceful. No actual combat is to take place in this neutral land."

A few Khari people exchange nervous glances at the word "neutral".

The man continues to speak, "The Khari will not participate in these conversations other than where we see fit. The consultations commence now."

My mother nudges me, signaling me to begin. Sweating with anxiousness, I initiate to talk, "As we all know, our empires have been at the line of war and peace for decades. I am sure that we all hope to resolve these quandaries here and now. Though we share our differences, we must come to a neutral compromise, each side giving in a little, bending a little, for the best for both Wruai and Quiore."

I look to my mother for approval. She nods to me and cautiously, I continue, "Despite this talk of peace, I have received a threat just this morning."

A few of the Khari and Wruai look unnerved and the Quiore look extremely disturbed, "It was a letter, signaling the annihilation of Quiore nobility by a Wruai spy."

I hold out the parchment and many at the tables gasp, stunned. The Wruai lord stands as does a Khari noble, "You lie! This morning, I have received a warning that you were to murder our royal line. Don't think that, just because you brought up the threat before we did, your threats to us are dismissed! We had received the same type of warning, on Quiore parchment."

"We also got a warning, from Quiore!" The Khari noble jumps in.

Anger is crawling up my skin and my patience is rapidly shrinking. They can't just team up on us like that! They obviously pretended that they were not the ones who had sent those letters to Quiore, though they obviously did. Acting like they had received warnings as well was unacceptable. Suddenly, a terrifying thought creeps into my mind. What if Eliade was the murderer, slinking among us like a friend? He _is_ from Wruai, and he _is_ acting like he came with good intentions, like a friend.

Interrupting my thoughts, my mother quickly rises from her seats and snatches my wrist into her grasp, pulling me up as well. "Raevyn, this is not a safe place. They have teamed up on us and a fight will not be a fair one. We must leave immediately."

With that, all of our people that have traveled so long and hard to get here, along with our body guards, rush out before neither side could control their anger toward each other any longer. Outside, we quickly get into the carriages and drove out of the Khari land. Sadly glancing back at the structure and its surroundings, I wonder what is to happen now that we are at war, once again. How many people to die this time? How many assassinations before Quiore is submerged in total chaos? Only time will tell.

I am jerked awake by the stopping of the coach we were in. Finally arriving back at my own land at daybreak, I am exhausted despite the uneasy sleep I had gotten on my ride back from the Khari palace. The door swings open and a hand is offered to me to assist me to get out. Taking the carriage driver's hand, I carefully duck my head and step out. Back at Quiore, I feel more comfortable and less up tight, relieved that the episode earlier is over. Everyone rushes back into the palace but I wait behind, relishing the tranquility around me, knowing that it will soon be engulfed by a deadly fighting, likely to continue for years. I soak in my surroundings. The sun's rays radiate down on my ebony hair and showers down on my slender, sloping shoulders. Standing still, right at that spot, for minutes, I hear nothing but the world.

Without warning there are cries of struggle from inside the door. Concerned with the situation, I gather my skirt and hurry back inside, to that direction.

"Take your hands off of me. This is all wrong! Stop, I—"

The scene before my eyes causes me to screech to a halt. In front of me, Eliade is being restrained and chained by numerous guards and soldiers. His scarlet eyes burning with furry and irritation his glare darts from soldier to solder and then sees me as they rest on me. I freeze in terror. I swear, although he is being restrained by so many guards, at that moment, he seemed capable of breaking free and striking me. One of the guards is tall, with a large build and jet black hair. The other one is blonde, and it looks like there's a rat growing under his nose. He is wearing a large armored chest plate and has badges hanging off his protected shoulders signifying his superiority to others and showing his high ranking. Eliade face softens to a slight smile and then he says, "Raevyn, tell them, I would never hurt you nor your family. Please, tell them. Please—"

Stunned by the moment, I stand there, unable to speak. I don't know what I think anymore. I don't want him to be a murderer, but if I let him go free and he _is _planning to assassinate my family, what will I say when he _does_? I simply stare and he is forced away down the dark hall and through a set of secret stairs, looking back at me for assistance. His expression was strange, though. He wasn't pleading or begging, merely staring like I had an obligation to release him and that the only reason he was looking to me was because I was the only one who could override my mother's decision to lock him up. I follow them to the dungeon. The soldiers roughly throw him into a tight, clammy cell and look to me for directions.

"Allow me some time to talk to him," I command them. They back off and stand against the wall. They didn't leave.

"I need to speak to him in private, please."

They glance nervously at me and then Eliade and finally at each other. With reluctance, they walk to the opposite end of the dungeon. Satisfied, I return my focus to Eliade.

"I—I don't know what to say," I stutter but silently reprimand myself for my open expressing of unease. I can't force myself to look straight at him, though, so I avert my gaze, "Please tell me that this has nothing to do with you."

Gently, he lifts my chin with his fingertips to have me face him. Startled, I recoil a bit but he holds firm. I look into his glowering eyes. Tears start threatening in the back of my eyes. I fiercely blink, in a feeble attempt to keep them back. He softly replies under his normal smirk, "No, I had no idea."

I start to fidget, still uncomfortable under his presence, "Please don't lie to me."

He says nothing; he simply eyes me with an unreadable expression cast on his face so I continue nonchalantly, "I'm really sorry this had to happen. Although, I'm not sure I can completely trust you."

"Look at me."

I face him, but only for a second.

"Tell me, am I lying?"

His devious smile remains in place.

Finally to my boiling point, I stand up so suddenly that Eliade jumps a little in response, "Please excuse me. I want answers and it is obvious that I won't be getting any here."

Surprised at my own boldness, I stumble a little and then stalk away, fuming with confusion and annoyance. As I stomp up the cold stone stairs, I stagger, my footwork faltering. I don't look back.


	5. Chapter 5

Early morning, I get up and get dressed in working clothes, a t-shirt and pants. At the break of dawn, I am still drowsy. The sky has not completely lightened yet from the sun rising just above the horizon. The sky is a canvas, for me to paint my thoughts and colors on, all expressed in one sweep of my brush. Gi is standing in the corner of my room, waiting for me to hurry up.

"Must you take such a long time to get ready? I've been waiting for at least an hour, I swear," He's being his usual impatient self as he reminds me, "I am the one doing the favor for you, you know. It's not required of one in my position to give you fighting lessons."

"You have to admit," I respond from behind the closet door, "I'm getting better at it. Besides, you've been teaching me for over two years now, I think that it would be dumb to stop now after I've advanced so far since I began."

I hear Gi sigh in resentment and I laugh quietly to myself. Stepping out from behind the door, I mockingly make a fighting pose and then tease him when I see the awkward look on Gi's face, "Oh great warrior, teach me your ways."

Laughing out loud, Gi says, "Let's go to the training hall and begin some practice rounds with different weapons."

I follow Gi down the hall and through multiple passages that I could never recall the exact routes despite having lived here all my life, which is approximately eighteen autumns. We pass many guards and soldiers positioned at many doors and halls in the palace. They salute as we walk by and I nod in approval, as a formality. I see a few of the lower ranking soldiers consulting their cavalry commanders and a few just loitering around aimlessly with no important tasks to conduct.

"Gi, how high in command are you?" I inquire with earnest interest.

"Well, most men who have belonged to the Quiore army for the three autumns as I have are rather low in their ranking. Not to boast or act egotistic, but I was actually found to be quite talented and skilled when it came to combat. After I arrived here, I instantly became second to my captain, and then promoted to an even higher rank," he pauses, then continues, "Right now, I am the third commander to the entire military."

Obvious that he isn't too comfortable discussing the subject; I press the topic even harder with curiosity, "Where did you come from? Why did you join Quiore? I mean, it's clear that you don't come from this kingdom."

"Oh, we're here now," Gi quickly changes subject as we near a grand practice room with all sorts of weapons hanging on the ramparts.

My attention quickly shifts to which one I want to try first. Daggers and swords of every size and shape lay gleaming on shelves and are draping dangerously off the walls. Glinting like water, the metal seems to be a metallic liquid, and I'm sure that if the room wasn't so dimly lit, the reflections themselves would be blinding. I pass slowly from one end of the walls to the other, looking at the manifestations of my face distort in the shapely blades. My eyes are drawn to one saber in particular. Reaching out impulsively, my fingers glide across its smooth, curved cutting edge from the brassy handle to the tip, my eyes transfixed on the area of contact the entire time. I arch my fingers so my nails scrape against the metal and I slide my hand back to the grip and clutch it in my grasp. With one swift movement, I remove it from its sheathed resting place. Slashing it through the air, I hear the wind and space being cut through. Looking across the room, I see that Gi has picked up his weapon as well. His gaze shifts from the sharp edge of his rapier to me and he signals to me that it is time to begin.

I walk to where he is standing and say, "What do we do first?"

"Let's start with a game. Here's how it works. Since there aren't any people practicing this early in the morning, we won't have to worry about bumping into anyone. We stand in our separate corners," Gi points to a barrel of leaves in the corner of the room as a sly grin spreads over his face, "and we take those leaves and dump them into the air. We will coat the tips of our swords with coloring. Competing to see who can cut the most leaves, we will slice them in half and in the end, we shall count who had hacked the most. No cutting them after they've already fallen. Sound good?"

I wink at him and accept the challenge, "Okay, just don't go crying to your commander after this girl whoops your ass."

Gi just smirks and pulls out two canisters of coloring. Dipping his sword into it, he draws it back out and the entire blade is turned red, dripping like blood. I blink at the scarlet. Gi seems to not notice my slight discomfort and offers me a container with blue paint and says, "It matches your eyes."

I smile and dip my blade in as well and let the streaming sky color splatter into the floor, making sure that it will not drip anymore before tilting it up. He backs up into his corner and nods as I position myself. I observe as he slides his blade in the crevice between the ground and the barrel. Following his lead, I do the same. One. Two. Three. In a rage of autumn, crumbling leaves soar in every direction. Lost in the confusion, I look around and all I see is splashes of red, orange, and brown. Suddenly remembering the situation, I hastily slash at the leaves, falling like snow. Blue goes splattering everywhere, on the leaves and on my clothing. I hear the crisp sound of leaves breaking under the edge of my sword, so satisfying that it makes me crave more. The fog of leaves eventually dissipates as the rest of them float gently to the ground, along with all the ones I had slashed at. I count mine up. Seventy-six.

"How many did you cut?" I hear Gi shout from the other end of the enormous room, "I got eighty-two."

He beat me. I lie, "I got eighty-six."

"Wow, good job. You just barely beat me! Congrats," Yeah, I suppose, "Since you won, you can decide what to do next."

Why does he even bother to ask? He knows that dueling is the only thing I really enjoy. The satisfaction of victory is such sweet a sensation that the risk of defeat a couple times is a small price to pay. Without waiting for an answer, he backs up into a fighting stance as do I.

Circling each other like vultures, we wait for the other to move or for an opportunity for attack. I lunge forward first, breaking the deadlock. He blocks the blow I swing to his chest, although he knows that I would never intentionally hurt him. He grins then pushes be back, sending me stumbling into the wall, knocking over several axes. He presses his sword against mine, with my own blade pressing dangerously close to my throat. With all my strength, I kick him back with my legs and he falls to the ground and I hear leaves leftover from our previous rendezvous crunch under the pressure of his drop. He slides backwards on his spine and instantly jumps up before I could take advantage of his falter.

This time, he charges toward me and I cringe at the feeling of the steel shrieking as they are forced together. At a physical disadvantage against Gi, I slowly yield little by little; however, I remain unwilling to admit defeat just yet. Squeezing my eyes shut, I emit a final burst of energy and throw him back, but not far enough. He instantly regains his poise and comes toward me. Raising his weapon, he strikes and I block the blow. With a vibrating, shiver inclining ring, the edge of my blade goes falling to the stone floor with a clash. The edge of the sword that has remained attached to the handle is in the shape of a "v"; the outside edges are jutting out while the middle sinks in. Dumbfounded, I stare for a split second at the thin steel saber, now cut in half. Gi stares as well. Making benefit of his hesitation, I jab his side with the back handle of my sword, but not too hard, and he recoils in response. Rapidly glancing at the hand holding his saber, I thrust the concave edge of my rapier on the blade of his and twist my wrist, thus exchanging his weapon from his hand to mine. Stunned, he blinks in a daze at my skills. Coming up to speed, he instantly grabs one of the weapons I had accidentally made fall when I bumped into a shelf. With the upper hand, I thrust my blade at his side, expecting him to block it right away.


End file.
